Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“You have a better idea?” I asked, a bit offended by his coldness.
His eyes remained on his food, his anger sheathed but still visible.
“You’re used to finer things in life. I don’t think some random guy you find on an app is going to give that to you.”
“Who said I wanted finer things? You know what I want, Cauldron?”
His plate was empty now, but he still wouldn’t look at me.
“A good man who will treat me right. Who won’t use me as a pawn. Who won’t violate my privacy. Who won’t brag about his conquests to make his brother jealous. Who’ll actually give a damn about me instead of using me.” I rose from my chair, putting my weight on my tender ankle without regard. “Thanks for dinner.” I grabbed the crutches and made my getaway. It was slow with a constant tap from the bottom of the rubber against the hardwood floor, but it was still putting distance between me and that monster.
A few days later, the wrap was removed from my ankle, and the crutches were returned to the therapist’s office. I was free once again, using my ankle just like I did before it was sprained. Sometimes, there was a subtle jolt of pain when I moved too quickly, but the therapist said that would cease after my nerves were used to the mobility again.
I felt like myself again. If I wanted to run for it and jump over another wall, I could.
Not that I was planning on it. I had just as much trouble breaking out of this place as I did breaking in to it.
Cauldron came into my bedroom when he finished up in his study, wearing his signature sweatpants, walking around all hard and chiseled, with that shadow across his jawline and underneath his chin. He was so hot that he used to bring me to the verge of a climax just by looking at him, but now, all I felt was an aching heart. “No more crutches?” He took the seat beside me on the couch.
“Yep.” I stuck out my leg and spun my ankle, showing off all the things I could do.
“Good. I’d like to take you out again.”
“To sell your diamonds?” I asked, my tone a little moody.
“Among other things.” He relaxed against the couch and looked at me, almost expectantly.
“What?” I asked, feeling scrutinized by that intense gaze.
“We made a deal.”
“Oh,” I said with a slight laugh. “Now that my ankle is better, you want to get down to business.”
“Your ankle was never the issue.” His intense stare was potent enough to pierce you from across the room. Up close, it was like standing under a clear sky on a summer day and the sun burned you all the way through. “I just can’t wait anymore.”
“Why don’t you just call up one of your regulars, then?” I asked, my anger heavy under the surface.
“Because I want you.”
I looked away, refusing to fall under the spell that had captivated me so deeply I’d fallen for him in the first place. I never wanted to be that stupid again. I never wanted to get crushed like that again. It was worse than my mother dying. She was sick for a while, so I knew it was coming. But with Cauldron, I’d had no idea what was about to hit me.
“Camille.”
I hated it when he said my name. He said it in a way no other man ever had. It was gentle but also possessive, like the way his fingers felt wrapped around my neck when he fucked me.
“Camille,” he repeated, demanding my stare.
My eyes shifted to his.
“I want you. And I can’t wait any longer.” Three weeks had come and gone, and I wouldn’t even let him touch my hand. His stare was the only thing that could violate me, every time I stepped out of the pool, every time I wore my little pajama shorts and he came inside to say goodnight. He didn’t move toward me, but his eyes undressed me of every piece of clothing, stripping me down to the white thong I wore underneath. Without touching me, he could violate me everywhere, press his big palms against my small tits.
When his stare became too much, I looked away.
His arm was over the back of the couch, so his fingers moved into the back of my hair, getting a fistful of it like reins to a horse.
All I did was breathe, inhale deep and slow, and then let it out again. My nerves were on fire, the muscles of my core were tight. I juggled my desire as well as my pain. It was a dichotomy of emotions, hating someone you wanted so much.
His fingers twisted my hair gently until he had a grip so firm I could never break free. He gently guided my face toward him, turning me until there was nothing else I could look at besides him.